


Slice of Life

by Mina Lightstar (ukefied)



Series: SPN Pairing Bingo [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukefied/pseuds/Mina%20Lightstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Benny goes down, Dean sees red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slice of Life

**Author's Note:**

> I have my own headcanon for how Purgatory works.

Dean’s had it up to here with being the most popular guy in Purgatory. He’s fed up with having to fight for his life every time he stops to take a nap, or a bath, or a piss. As far as he’s concerned, the whole realm can just fuck right the hell off — just as soon as he’s no longer in it, of course.

“So _suck it_ ,” he snarls at the nearest troll. It appears to be a little confused — as confused as a troll gets, anyway — and Dean starts hacking at it before it can answer with its huge fists.

The only good thing to come out of Purgatory so far? His shiny new machete hybrid.

“Dean!” Benny shouts from somewhere to his left. “Two o’clock!”

Dean moves with practiced grace, wrenching his blade from bloody pulp and swinging it at the new troll coming his way. He catches it across the abdomen, slicing clean across, opening its flesh and spilling its blood. He doesn’t stop there, going for the knees with all he’s got, bringing all twelve feet of the beast down to his level so he can hack its head off its shoulders. Quick and aggressive attack is the only way to fight a troll, provided you’ve got no choice but hand-to-hand combat. Trolls are upwards of twice a man’s size, with thick skin to boot; the only way to win is to nickel and dime them into submission before they rip you in half.

“We gotta go!” Dean yells, kicking the severed head across the dirt. Who knows how long before the trolls re-manifest, angrier than ever? “Benny, c’mon!” He turns just in time to see it.

When Benny goes down, Dean sees red. The vampire disappears under two large trolls and Dean is running, leaping over corpses and fumbling for his knife. He drops his machete on the way, brandishes the knife, and jumps. He lands on one troll’s broad back. It stands up straight, and only Dean adrenaline-fueled grip keeps him from being shaken off. He reaches around and plunges the knife in the troll’s throat, aiming it up towards its massive jaw.

Dean hops off when the dead troll drops to the dirt next to Benny. The other troll advances. Dean holds the knife tighter. Fuck, why did he drop his sword? Okay, one shot at this. One shot to live or die.

One.

Shot.

The troll lunges. Dean feints to the right, then closes in. The knife goes deep into the troll’s groin. Normally, Dean would feel a little contrite about stabbing another man in the balls. Not this time. This time, Dean yanks the blade free so he can stab the troll again in the back of the neck.

He makes sure all four of them are dead, then goes to check on Benny. The vampire’s sprawled on the ground where he fell, looking pale and pained. Dean checks him over for injuries, but doesn’t find any obvious ones. Did the trolls crush something …?

“Benny? Hey, Benny. Hey!” No answer, but the vampire lolls his head towards Dean’s voice, eyelids fluttering.

Dean glances back at the troll corpses. They’ll dissolve soon, re-manifesting somewhere in Purgatory to hunt again — an endless cycle of supernatural torment. He should leave Benny. He _should_ ; he’s a vampire, a natural enemy.

He’s also Dean’s friend. He’s had Dean’s back for weeks, fighting alongside him. Fuck. He can’t carry Benny, and dragging him along would be … goddamn it.

Dean pushes his sleeves up to his elbow and shoves his wrist at Benny’s mouth. The invitation is plain, but Benny doesn’t respond. Frustrated, Dean rubs the inside of his wrist over the vampire’s lips. “Come on, take it!”

He feels the prickling of teeth against his skin. Then Benny’s eyes snap open and he turns his head away, sneering _“no”_ like Dean’s insulted him.

They don’t have time for this bullshit. Dean digs out his pocketknife and slices a thin cut into his own forearm. Fresh, crimson blood oozes from it immediately, and he can hear Benny’s sharp intake of breath. Dean climbs over the vampire, not taking no for an answer. He pinches Benny’s cheeks with one hand and lets the first few drops drip onto his tongue.

Then instinct bares its fangs, so to speak. The taste opens a floodgate of desire; Benny growls and bites down, worrying at Dean’s flesh and suckling the offered blood. _Just a little,_ Dean thinks as the world starts to spin. Just enough to kickstart Benny’s vampiric healing abilities. Who knows when Benny fed last. Fuck, does it even count as feeding in Purgatory?

“What happens if you die here?” Dean asks, closing his eyes against the dizziness. “What if you come back differently? What if you don’t come back at all?” Benny hums in response, licking Dean’s cut clean. “Okay,” Dean says a moment later. “Okay, buffet’s closed.” He pulls his arm back and yanks his sleeves down.

Benny sits up suddenly, eyes alert and half-crazed from bloodlust. It’s more than a little awkward, seeing as how Dean’s now in the vampire’s lap, smelling his own blood on Benny’s breath. When he tries to move, Benny grabs his shoulders. “Brother,” he says in a shaky voice, “you don’t …”

“Benny,” Dean starts warningly, but the vampire cuts him off with a kiss. Dean grunts in protest but Benny’s insistent. His beard tickles and his tongue tastes like dirt and blood. Dean’s blood. “Christ,” Dean says into Benny’s mouth, rubbing himself over the vampire’s totally inappropriate erection. Looks like Benny’s traded one kind of lust for another.

Well, there’s something to be said for we-almost-died sex. The idea makes Dean laugh when Benny rolls them over. They start pulling at belts and buckles, and Benny’s frozen fingers on Dean’s cock is ironically really fucking hot. He’s trying to shove a hand down the vampire’s pants when Benny goes for his neck. “Don’t you _dare_ ,” he says, but Benny only sucks a bruise into the skin.

He turns his head aside, bucking into Benny’s hand and shivering when the vampire nibbles. Then he opens his eyes, finds himself staring into vacant troll eyes — and the fervor fades as quickly as it took him.

Dean sits up, shoving Benny away. “What are we _doing?_ ”

Benny looks just as shocked, wiping his mouth and blinking at their bedraggled states. “Having sex in a pile of troll corpses,” he says.

“Yeah, you don’t say?” Dean rolls to his feet, putting himself back together and gathering his weapons. “What the _actual fuck._ ”

“Relax, brother.” Benny sounds calm, but he’s moving just as quickly as Dean. “Didn’t hear you complaining.” Dean barks a laugh, but then Benny grabs his sleeve. “Thanks. For the pick-me-up.”

Dean averts his eyes. “Not a problem. Lemme know if you ever, uh, need another hit.” Benny raises an eyebrow. “I don’t need another episode like that if you’re low on iron.”

The vampire gives him a toothy grin. “Fair enough.” The smile fades fast, though. “That’s our cue.”

Dean looks back over his shoulder. The troll bodies are gone. He looks back at Benny and sighs.

They start running.

~end


End file.
